Argh- why do I love toturing Oralie so much? This is her at the end of Lodestar, but if Mr. Forkle/Sir Astin/Magnate Leto/ whole bunch of other stuff hadn't saved her.

Yay! So cheerful! Not dark at all!

She staggered backward as the incredibly sharp, cold steel blade slid into her stomach and out her back. Blood began to flow, crimsom staining her pink gown. She stumbled a few more steps, then her knees buckled and she collapsed, leaning against the wall for support, seeing Gethen's leering face.

Between gasping breaths, she rasped, "You won't get away with this."

"Oh, I think I already have. And how will the Council react when they find I've killed one of their members?" he answered, standing over her.

"You overestimate me. I'm not important," she managed, coughing up blood, forcing herself not to move as pain coursed through her. "Stay away from me."

"Oh, I don't think so," he smirked, flicking the blade and drawing a thin cut down her face, which immediately welled up with blood.

He beckoned Brant forward, and Oralie immediately flinched away- or tried to. Each movement made her breath hiss through gritted teeth, her eyes flutter, her beautiful face contort in agony.

Gethen studied her, features softening.

"You could have chosen me," he said gently. "But you chose the Council, and… Kenric, was it?"

"I would chose my world over anything else," she gasped. "Even over you… and Kenric."

He brought the point of the sword to her throat. His ruthless mask was back. "What a shame."

Oralie closed her eyes.

Then she heard a familiar voice calling, "Oralie! Councillor Oralie!"

Gethen jumped and managed to disappear to who knows where.

She called weakly, "Help…Is anyone there?"

There was the sound of running footsteps. Then, again, tentatively,"Councillor Oralie?"

"I'm here," she said wearily. Blackness fringed the edge of her vision, and her eyes fluttered again.

Sophie Foster was running in, scanning the room, with the rest of the group on her heels.

Oralie couldn't fight off the blackness any longer. Her eyes closed and she crumpled to the floor in a pool of her own blood.

Sophie didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to hear the soft thump. Dreading what she'd find, she made her way carefully through the room. It seemed empty. Then Biana screamed and jumped up from her place in the room. She took a deep breath and pointed… to the pink fabric torn from an elvin gown. Oralie was clearly in here.

A few minutes later, Mr. Forkle sucked in a sharp breath, calling the others. Sophie stumbled backward as she saw what she thought she would.

Oralie, slumped on the ground, unconscious in a pool of her own blood.

Her eyes flickered open as Mr. Forkle did his best to apply pressure to the wound, and she shifted, wincing and coughing, a thin stream of blood running out her mouth.

Sophie looked away. There was blood everywhere: soaking Oralie's gown, on her hands, in her golden ringlets. Her skin was pale and cold

But Oralie took a shuddering breath, and her eyes began to close again.

Keefe brushed his hand over her pale, fragile arm.

"It's too late," he murmured, shaking his head.

Tears slipped down Sophie's face. Oralie had been so kind to her… and she had failed to appreciate just how much the Councillor had given her.

Oralie managed another breath.

"Sophie," she rasped. "Don't let it break you. Don't let any of it break you."

A single tear traced down Sophie's face.

"But it's my fault," she said, swallowing a sob.

The Councillor smiled dimly. "No, it's mine, for being so foolish."

"You shouldn't have to make so great a sacrifice," Sophie protested.

"What is greatness?"

Sophie considered this. "I cannot honestly say what it is. It all depends on what you consider great."

Oralie's hand brushed her face. "I agree."

Then her eyes closed as her lifeblood seeped out of the wound, and she took a final breath.

Her last words were to all of them: "Greatness, to me, is… doing everything in your power to help your world."

Mr. Forkle carefully picked up Oralie's body.

Sophie felt numb. It was too quiet. She could only hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Oralie was dead.

Thump.

What would Grady and Edaline say?

Thump.

She'd already lost so many.

"Greatness, to me, is… doing everything in your power to help your world."

The words echoed in her head.

She would do exactly that.

She would follow in Oralie's footsteps.